#injured on a case

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Apple Pie

Harry was baking when Draco got home.

An apple pie, if Draco had to guess, judging by the smell wafting through the house. He took a slow breath before squaring his shoulders and heading toward the kitchen where his boyfriend was baking. It didn't seem like something that should set Draco's fight or flight responses off but it very much was.

Harry only baked pies when he was upset. And it wasn't that he was afraid of Harry; he wasn't, it was just that he hated how hard that amount of stress was, hated that they couldn't just have a proper fight anymore. Hated that he felt like it was all his fault.

"Hey," he said lightly, settling himself at the island and watching Harry as he tidied.

"Hey," Harry replied, voice equally light, but there was an undercurrent of something else there, something that Draco could feel buzzing in his veins.

He paused, parsing out the words, trying to figure out what to say. Maybe if he could just assure him-

"Don't," Harry said, voice sounding stretched tight, like something was ready to shatter inside of him. "Just leave it alone."

"Harry-" he started.

A vase on the shelf wobbled dangerously for a moment before Harry exhaled and unclenched his fists, "Seriously, Draco," he said. "I need some time."

"Right," he said softly, trying not to escalate either of their emotions, "okay," he said, nodding and heading toward their bedroom and deciding to take a shower.

He spent his time in the shower reminding himself that this was how this always went, ever since the curse. Harry's magic was always heightened when he was upset, Harry always drove him away so that he could calm his body down first so his magic didn't lash out unpredictably and wreck their home, they always got to talk it through later. He forced himself to slow down, to do a hair mask and a face mask, light a candle, and moisturize his skin. He'd finished all of his normal self-care routines and then braided his hair before putting on a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry's jumpers.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Harry was sitting in the chair in their room, elbows rested on his knees, fingers clasped. He wasn't looking at Draco but Draco knew that he was fully aware of his presence.

“Hey,” Draco said, keeping his voice level and calm.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered. “I wanted to be okay by the time you got back but I just...” he shook his head and sighed heavily, looking up at Draco and pinning him with the intensity of his gaze, “Are you alright?”

"Fine," he said lightly, no reason for Harry to know that he'd almost died in the field today.

Harry all but growled at him, "don't lie to me," he said and Draco could feel the way his magic was twitching around Draco, trying to reach out and check him but Harry was visibly restraining himself.

With a sigh, he held out his arms, "I am fine," he muttered a bit petulantly. "Go on then," he said and Harry's magic covered him, touching him everywhere seeking out his bones and organs, checking him for any damage. After a moment his magic retreated a bit but he could still feel it lingering on his skin.

"You had a lot of injuries," Harry said, jaw ticking.

"I'm fine," he repeated.

He looked down and took a deep breath, "Ron told me you were in Mungos," he said, and he really must have done a good job regulating given the way his voice barely trembled.

Draco sat on the floor in front of Harry, sliding closer so that he could catch his eyes, "I am fine," he said softly looking up at him.

Harry's fingers reached out and brushed over his jaw, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he confessed. "Draco, I'm-" he broke off, looking at his hands where his fingers were clenched together, "I'm afraid that I'd burn the world to the ground if something happened."

He reached out and took both of Harry's hands in his, clasping them between his, "I'm okay," he repeated.

"This time," Harry said softly.

He didn't know what to say. "I know my job is hard-"

"No you don't," he said, his voice just a little sharp. "You have no idea what it's like to sit here everyday, waiting and hoping that nothing bad happens to you. You have no idea what it's like to have my magic constantly rushing under my skin wanting to help you-"

"I've told Weasley a thousand times not to fucking send you a patronus for every little injury-"

"It wasn't a little injury!" Harry snapped and a light bulb blew in the bathroom.

He shook his head, "I hear that but there's nothing you can do anyway-"

"That's the point!" Harry shouted and something shattered in the kitchen. "There's nothing that I can ever do. I just sit home and bake fucking pies while you go out and throw yourself in front of everything that will kill you."

"That's rich coming from you," Draco said. "The entire reason your magic is like this is because of the curse you had to throw yourself in front-"

"To protect you!"

"I didn't ask you to protect me!" Draco exclaimed. "How long are you going to keep punishing me for something that you chose?"

"Punishing you?" Harry asked, reeling back like Draco had slapped him, "How is wanting to keep you safe punishing you?"

Draco shook his head, tears filling his eyes, "I don't want to give up my life. Every time something happens," he said, "every time I get hurt, I feel afraid of how you're going to react."

"Draco, I wouldn't hurt you-"

"Not because I'm worried about you hurting me," he said, because that was true. "Because it tears you up and I keep waiting for you to ask me to quit. And I don't want to. Harry-"

"I'm sorry," he said, "shit." He put his head in his hands, "Shit."

"I love you," Draco said, because he did, more than anything. "I love you."

"I know," he said, catching the hand that Draco had pressed to his cheek and turning his face to kiss his palm. "I'm a lot," he said. "This curse is a lot. This is too much-"

"You're not too much for me," Draco inserted quickly because he wanted Harry to understand, "but it feels like I'm too much for you. And I hate the way I make you feel. I hate that we just keep going in this cycle of you getting worried, blowing shit up in our house, then feeling guilty and apologizing."

"Sorry-"

"Stop," he said. "Salazar, Harry!, stop apologizing It should be okay for you to feel worried. Why are we always trying to cap it?"

"Because my magic destroys things," he said like Draco had lost the plot.

"And?" Draco asked. "So what? We can fix it. Let's just," he shook his head, "please," he said. "Please, can we just have a fight. Or can you just let yourself feel your fucking feelings and we'll repair anything that's broken. Because I hate feeling like I'm constantly breaking you."

"What if it hurts you?"

"It won't," Draco said, "because you would never."

"There's a lot in there," he said softly. "A lot of things that I've worked really hard at not experiencing in their fullness."

He nodded, "I know, love. Just," he shrugged, "let it out."

Harry stared at him, "What if I'm too much?" he whispered.

Draco brushed his thumb over his cheek, "impossible."

"Outside?" Harry asked. "Maybe in the back garden? If we put up some shield charms?"

"Yeah," Draco said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Harry's lips, "yes."

"I don't actually want to fight with you," Harry said, "but it might be nice to let myself feel," he added like a confession. He looked at Draco, "I don't actually want you to quit, I just-"

"Hate feeling helpless," Draco said softly for him.

Harry nodded.

"Come on," he said, standing and pulling Harry to his feet, tugging him outside.

For a long moment, Harry just stood there, letting Draco put up stronger wards and shields to protect the perimeter of their property. As he watched, Harry closed his eyes, his toes burying themselves in the grass and dirt. Draco watched, waiting, and nothing happened.

Until it did.

He'd been expecting things to shatter, rocks to break, their flower garden to get torn up. Instead, the sky itself turned dark and it opened up and started to pour.

Rain drenched everything in seconds. Everything except Draco.

He looked at Harry, watched the tears streaming down his face mixing with the rain. Then Harry started to talk, "I am so afraid," he said over the pounding of the rain. "So afraid that I'm going to lose you, you have no idea. And it just," he shook his head, "the grief and fear weigh so heavily on my heart, all the time." Thunder cracked overhead, lightning striking the ground. "And I can't do anything. I want to be able to help, to be able to protect you, and it eats me up inside that I can't."

The rain turned to partial hail but Draco remained completely dry, even as Harry's clothes started to cling to his body in all of the wet.

"And I'm so frustrated about being trapped in our house. Frustrated that they haven't found the counter-curse. Frustrated that I can't help you or anyone else. But especially you." he said, still not looking at Draco, his eyes still closed as the storm raged on.

Draco waited, he just waited, wanting to give Harry all of the space that he needed to say whatever he wanted to say.

"I feel like I just keep failing you, over and over," he sobbed. "I promised, in our vows," he continued, "I promised to protect and cherish you and it's a promise that I break every fucking day."

"Harry," Draco said, moving toward him and stepping into the rain and ice that was still pelting his beloved. "Harry, look at me," he murmured and the other man opened his eyes.

"How can you even stand to look at me?" he asked, voice raw as the wind whipped around them.

"You haven't failed me," he said. And Harry started to shake his head but he continued, "You haven't," he insisted. "Because you can't. You protect my heart, you protect our home, you layer me with protective spells every single day before I leave; don't think I don't feel them settling over me like a mantle."

"I-"

"I love you. I want you," he added. "I want this life, with you. We promised each other the rest of our lives and I want all of yours. I want you to feel your feelings; to be afraid, or angry, or frustrated, or anything else. I want you to be you. Completely and totally you." He shook his head, leaning in and kissing him hard, "Circe, I've missed you these past two months."

"I haven't gone anywhere," Harry said, brushing the long wet strands of hair that had fallen out of his braid off Draco's face.

He nodded, "But you've been such a shell of yourself, so timid and," he shrugged helplessly, "not you."

"Draco," he breathed, tears falling all the harder, even as the rain started to ease slightly.

"Please stop hiding from me," he begged.

Harry tucked his face in Draco's neck and he cupped the back of his head, threading his fingers through Harry's curls.

"I want all of you," he said softly. "All of the anger, the hurt, the frustration. Give me all of you."

"Okay," Harry whispered, the rain slowing around them to a light drizzle. "Okay."

He wrapped Harry tighter in his arms, squeezing him as the rain stopped and the sun poked back out. "There," he said softly, "feel better?"

Harry nodded, pulling Draco closer, holding him tighter than he had since the curse happened.

"There you are," Draco murmured, holding him tighter in return, "Fuck," he whispered as their bodies seemed to come back intune with one another. "There you are," he repeated.

"Don't leave," Harry whispered, voice cracking.

"Hey," he said, "hey. I'm not leaving, love. I'm not going anywhere. Why would I-"

"My brain knows that," Harry said, "but my heart just-" he broke off. "I'm afraid."

"Listen to me," Draco said, pressing a kiss to his temple, "I'm not leaving. I love you. And I am always happy to tell you."

"It's stupid," Harry whispered.

He shook his head, "Nothing you're feeling is stupid. It's okay to be afraid, it's okay to need reassurance. We're going through something really hard, I'm happy to reassure you."

"Thanks."

He hummed, "do you think you're ready to go back inside, maybe put some dry clothes on and watch a movie?" he offered. "I was told to take two days of medical leave, so we can have a couple of days with just us?" he hedged.

Harry pulled back so that he could look him in the eyes, "I'd like that."

"Me too."

He sighed and scuffed his foot on the ground, "Thanks for letting my feelings be really big."

"I'm always happy to let you take up space," Draco promised. "Always."

And even once they found the counter-curse six months later, they found that they both were better at communicating their emotions and expressing their needs with less trepidation.

They were both surprised to find that the curse had actually been a blessing in disguise.

--------------------

Read more of my fics here.

#drarry #auror draco #auror partners #injured on a case #but he's fine #we have big feelings in this one #protective harry #love #husbands #soft #communication is important #working at relationships #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 2)

—

Tw: canon-typical violence (Batman), emetophobia at one point

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

Danny sat in the back of one of the transport trucks currently on the way to Arkham, his hands in his lap.

So far, everything was going to plan.

About a quarter of the team had gotten themselves admitted into Arkham in the days leading up to the raid, carefully sneaking in supplies and weapons for both themselves and the rogues they were going to free.

Half of the team was on trucks, ready to storm the building with their fancy new tech. A couple others were keeping an eye out for the Bats, and the last one was holed up in a recently condemned building, ecto-modified sniper rifle in hand, ready to fire.

Danny’s hands were cold.

He hadn’t always run cold, from what he remembered. Even after he died—hell, even after he started developing his ice powers—he had always been warm.

Now, though, his body was freezing.

Maybe it was because of the ecto siphoning he and Derringer had done the day before.

He couldn’t make the ecto guns work without fueling them, after all, and the only ectoplasm he had access to was the stuff inside his body. So, he had Derringer hook him up to a GiW machine and filter the ecto out of his blood.

The process was excruciating.

Not only did he get light-headed from the loss of fluids, the machine also chilled his blood considerably during the filtering process, and when it was pumped back into his body, it was freezing. Derringer had to cover him with heating pads and thick blankets to get him to stop shaking.

Still, that had been a little over eighteen hours ago, so that probably wasn’t it.

Maybe it was just another side affect of his time with the GiW.

Overuse of his ghostly wail, he had realized earlier, was the reason that he had lost his voice permanently. Maybe he had accidentally used his ice too many times the same way, and now his body was irrevocably changed. Maybe warmth was just another tiny privilege he had taken for granted, that had now been lost forever.

Danny stared down at his hands.

Maybe his body had just given up entirely on keeping him warm, on pretending to be human.

“Kid, you alright? We’re almost there.”

Derringer’s voice snapped Danny out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Danny signed, “just tired. And cold.”

“We’ve got to get you a jacket, kid,” Derringer said, “it’s not even winter and I already have to worry about you freezing to death.”

“I died a long time ago, it’s fine.”

“No,” one of the other men in the truck drawled, “it means you’ve got to be extra careful. You’ve got a second chance at living, so you better not screw it up.”

“What did he say?”

“Danny thinks that because he’s died before, he doesn’t need to worry about freezing to death.”

The truck went quiet for a few moments. Most of the guys in there didn’t know he had died before. He didn’t exactly like to advertise the fact.

“I have a cousin who had a heart attack, and it only made his heart worse,” one of the guys near the front of the truck offered.

“See, kid?” Derringer said, “I’m right. As soon as this is over, you’re getting a jacket.”

Danny crossed his arms, slumping over in his seat with a huff.

A few moments later, a loud clang echoed through the truck. Danny jolted, almost falling out of his seat.

The door opened, the driver looking at them with boredom written all over his face.

“Alright, up and at em. It’s go time,” he mumbled, smacking the door loudly for emphasis. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can leave.”

They all stood, hopping out of the truck and making their way to the fence line.

Danny moved his hand to the bandolier on his chest, fingers brushing against the small ecto-bombs he had attached to it.

There were five of them, their bodies made of tempered glass and black steel, and they glowed a sickly green in the night. They were designed mainly for combat; he had a few larger ones meant to blow a hole in a wall in his backpack, which was securely zipped shut.

His hand then drifted to the holster on his left side, and the ecto-gun nestled securely within it.

Most of his parents’ inventions were far too big and bulky to be practical in any real combat setting, so he had downsized them considerably. The weapon he had was modeled after a standard glock pistol, matte black paint covering the GiW white of the gun’s body.

The gun should be able to fire around fifty shots a minute without overheating, which was more than enough for Danny. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to fire a single round tonight. However, for whatever reason, the words should and hopefully didn’t inspire much confidence in him.

Danny followed the group as they snuck up to the facility, Derringer by his side.

Originally, neither of them were going to go on the raid, but someone on the patient list had caught Danny’s eye, so he decided he would investigate in person. Derringer was just along for the ride because Mr. Cobblepot wasn’t willing to lose an asset as valuable as Danny.

Danny would make it up to the bodyguard later, he decided.

Entering Arkham was, all things considered, pretty easy. Mr. Cobblepot had connections to a few of the orderlies, and it was all too easy to convince them to “forget” a few steps in setting up the security system for the night.

However, since nothing can ever just be simple, they ran into an unexpected patrol of nightshift guards just a few minutes after all splitting up to find the rogues.

Danny and Derringer were able to take them down pretty quickly, but not before they sounded the alarms. And, according to a few guys on the comms, they weren’t the only ones to run into guards where they shouldn’t be.

“They must have changed their patrols,” Derringer huffed, spinning the pistol in his hands, “c’mon, let’s go see about freeing our good friend Victor Fries.”

Danny nodded, scampering after the man as he sprinted through the halls.

The inmates, who had woken up from the loud alarm’s continuous blaring, shouted at them from their cells. Danny’s pulse was loud in his ears, drowning everything out.

Distantly, he wondered if those guards were going to die. Maybe they were dead already.

He supposed that it didn’t really change much if they were.

Soon, they were at the cell. It was custom-built to hold Mr. Freeze, constantly kept at subzero temperatures to avoid killing him.

Derringer hefted his bag off of his back, pulling out the suit and freeze gun that Mr. Cobblepot had procured. As he did so, Danny took a few of the larger ecto-bombs and placed them on the joints of the door.

They carefully moved away, putting some distance between themselves and the door, and Danny detonated it.

The explosion was loud. It shook the entire building, the shockwave knocking Danny to the floor.

Danny brought his hand up to his safety goggles, yanking a small piece of metal shrapnel out of them and dropping it on the floor. He was dimly aware of more pieces sticking out of his kevlar suit. Derringer was similarly peppered with metal, luckily uninjured as well.

They had come from the body and mechanism of the bomb, he realized. He’d have to fix that later.

Mr. Freeze emerged from the cell a few moments later, a scowl on his face. Derringer quickly shoved the suit and freeze gun into his hands and he retreated back into the cell for a few moments, getting dressed.

“I could have died from that, you know,” he hissed. “Killed by some amateurs with shoddy explosives.”

“The Penguin sent us,” Derringer said, ignoring the man’s clear annoyance, “our getaway car is outside. If you’d come with us…”

Mr. Freeze nodded sternly.

“Hurry up, then.”

Derringer and Danny hurried out, Mr. Freeze right behind them. Then, at a certain hallway, Danny paused.

He had to check.

“Kid,” Derringer barked, “we have to go.”

Danny shook his head.

“You go,” he signed, hands trembling, “I have to check.”

“Oh, what’s the problem now?” Mr. Freeze asked, his frown more pronounced by the minute.

“Danny…” Derringer sighed, “Danny thinks his sister might be in here. He hasn’t seen her in years. It’s the whole reason he was a part of the Arkham raid, actually.”

Mr. Freeze paused for a moment.

“Well, lead the way, then,” he said, clearly regretting his words as soon as he said them. Danny just nodded, scurrying forward, the other two men close behind him.

They came to the right cell quickly. Danny looked in through the glass, and he felt a piece of himself shatter.

That was Jazz, his sister, sitting in a padded wall wearing a straightjacket and a muzzle.

She didn’t bother looking up at them as they arrived, not stirring even when Danny slammed his hands on the door to get her attention.

Shakily, he attached an ecto-bomb to the door, hoping with all his might that she wouldn’t get hurt.

The door blew open, and Danny rushed in.

Jazz’s head swiveled to look up at him, her eyes narrowed.

He slipped the goggles up and his bandanna down, exposing his face as he came to kneel beside her.

Slowly, her expression shifted to shock.

“Jazz,” he creaked, his broken vocal chords cracking painfully as he spoke, “it’s me.”

She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Danny?”

He nodded, pulling her into a hug, careful not to let the shrapnel dig into her skin.

“I thought you were…”

“Very heartwarming,” Mr. Freeze snapped, “but now isn’t the time. We’ve got to go, now.”

Jazz nodded, leaping to her feet. Danny stood as well, slipping his mask and bandanna back on, and grabbing onto one of her arms for support.

They left the cell, Danny doing a double-take as he saw the frozen-over pathway that they had just come from. He looked to Mr. Freeze, tilting his head questioningly.

“There were guards,” he said flatly. “Now hurry up, we need to get out of here.”

Derringer grabbed the two of them, dragging them along as he sprinted through the hallways. They had to take a bit of a detour, coming out of the main entrance instead of the side one they had entered.

Unfortunately, there was an active gunfight going down.

Danny was roughly pulled behind a desk, just barely dodging a few rounds.

His hands shook as he pulled a small ecto-bomb from his bandolier, priming it and throwing it at a small grouping of night guards. They cried out as the pure ectoplasm collided with them, covering their bodies in burns.

The smell, while familiar to Danny, was still horrific.

They took a few shots off at the night guards, trying to take them down. Their group was efficient, but with the rate they were going at, it wasn’t going to be enough. Only adding to that, the gun Mr. Cobblepot had prepared for Mr. Freeze had broken after just a few uses, leaving them unable to create an ice wall.

Then, Danny heard the sound of a gun’s safety being turned off behind them, and his vision went white.

He grabbed onto Jazz and Derringer, making them intangible right as the night guard opened fire.

Waves of nausea hit him all at once and he doubled over, his vision swimming. Danny was only dimly aware of Jazz taking the guard down with a high kick right to the head, and Derringer pulling him into a protective hold.

Ignoring everything, he pulled the last of the large bombs from his bag, throwing it into the air, pulling everyone behind the desk.

The entire room went white.

Danny’s ears rung as he scrambled out from behind the reception desk, dragging Jazz with him.

Luckily, none of the hired hands on his team had gotten injured, but the guards…

Danny looked away, trying to ignore the taste of bile in his mouth.

It was fine. He was fine. Everything would be okay.

The next few minutes were a blur. He knew that he had puked only a few seconds after they had left the building, and that Derringer had picked him up afterwards, carrying him to the truck with Mr. Freeze and Jazz in tow.

Danny’s entire body was wracked with tremors, an unbearable phantom pain passing through the still-healing surgical wounds in his head and torso like lightning. He dry-heaved, shivering uncontrollably.

They drove off soon after. Luckily, no one had been left behind. Someone, probably Derringer, helped Danny rinse out his mouth and got him a bottle of water to drink, wrapping him in his jacket.

As soon as the truck doors were opened within one of Mr. Cobblepot’s safehouses, Danny became aware of the sound of wailing.

Hopping out of the truck, most of his mind still far away, he saw a man being rolled out of the room on a stretcher. He was one of the people who had been on the other truck, Danny realized.

Beside him was a teenager, probably only a few years younger than Danny, who was screaming and crying uncontrollably. They wailed at Mr. Cobblepot, who only stood there with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“Oh shit,” Derringer breathed. Danny pulled on his sleeve, tilting his head at him questioningly.

“The guy on the stretcher, that’s his sibling.”

Danny just stared, a hollow feeling deep in his chest.

Jazz, her arms now freed from the straightjacket, pulled him away from the scene. Danny let her.

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #vengeful danny #villain danny #btw Danny’s just cold because he has an iron deficiency. lmao #girl this is what happens when you don’t eat for two years. you get deficiencies. now stop angsting and eat your veggies #also my descriptions of the ecto filter come from donating blood plasma + platelets #Danny is Going Through It™️ #btw I’m finishing this chapter at 3:03 am #just in case you thought I didn’t care about you all #btw the guy who’s injured’s sibling is a surprise tool that will help us later #also I was totally gonna kill Derringer at first. btw #but y’all avoided that with the poll. also it would have been a bit cheap imo

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

#writing #writing community #snippet #angst #heroes and villains #ficlet #writblr #hero/villain #hero whumpee #exhaustion #overworked #villain caretaker #whump #kind of #in case you’re wondering. yes you CAN do this to yourself. it’s completely possible #essentially what happens is if you do a motion (a pull-up) more than your body is capable #it gets mad. this is different from training till failure. this is to failure and then beyond #so while you started using the correct muscle groups you those muscles get tired and despite the tired you don’t stop #so then your body switches to muscles it SHOULDNT BE USINF and then you fuck up your elbows (in the case of pull-ups) #and then you can’t straighten your arms for a week bc the ligaments and tendons and all the little movement parts want to keep it curled in #I’m not a doctor #I’m just a gifted kid who was an athlete who got burnt out and destroyed her body lmao #this is possibly maybe based on true events that occurred #anyways. I’m not a doctor but you can use electrical tape on wounds. yes it sticks. yes it stays. it’s honestly very useful. #electrical tape > bandaids #do not do anything listed here it is BAD. do not blow out your muscles it hurts. properly clean ur injuries. I beg you. #don’t get injured at all #thank you to my friend who went “pull-up’ competition and then watched me create this angst #love u besties. drink water. go to sleep. summon demons. ❤️ self care

[salcreus]

2-3

Another drawing I did for @aabadendingzine ! You can get the zine for free here 🔥

#ace attorney #salty art #phoenix wright #maya fey #franziska von karma #regina berry #dick gumshoe #benjamin woodman #lawrence curls #putting my very strong feelings aside for this case. #i liked how the kitty cat came out :) #the whole idea for this drawing is that phoenix ends up badly injured (or dead) due to animal mishandling #which lets be real if ace attorney was a more realistic game it totally would have happened

[ghost-bxrd]

Anti Robin/MockingJay: gets injured by an enemy

Red Hood

Very accurate reaction on Jason’s behalf lol 😭

Mini Bruce knows getting injured will lead to sudden increase in work for the Gotham morgue so he generally tries to avoid it 🤣😭

#antithesis of magic #Jason is a protectiveTM dad #this leads to mini Bruce being more careful about his health than og!bruce ever was #so it’s a win win? #unless Bruce gets injured #in that case… well #you can see the gif lol 😭 #antirobin #mockingjay #jason todd #bruce wayne

[biggest-whump-fan]

My baby is getting whumped 😫😭 and look at this

OMG HELP HE IS SO LONELY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔

#detective conan movie 25 #i wanna hug him 🥺 #whump #anime whump #anime #detective conan #furuya rei #passing out #bromance #collapse #injured #case closed #detective conan movie 25 Halloween bride #he's so cute #and lonely #i just 😭😭😭😭 #dcmk #amuro tooru

[door]

i got my stitches out today, which means im no longer wearing a bulky bandage on my right hand, which means i can confess to the dumbest thing i did while i was trapped in it. which was to put it into a pot glove and confidently open the open to retrieve something only my hand was too bulky from the bandage so the pot glove popped right off and flew up and landed in the bottom of the oven. where it promptly erupted into flames

#i immediately pulled it out of the fire with my bare injured hand of course #a beautiful cascade of bad decisions #nobody tell robyn about this post they’ll yell at me #i waited until today to make this post just in case i managed to do something dumber #and i did (fell and caught myself on the bad hand) but it was after the stitches came out #more information about penguins than i care to have

[meymeyzart]

tough crowd I guess...

#sometimes I think of tatsumi trying to save kaname when they got jumped by the school😭😭 #pics taken seconds before disaster yadda yadda #also this is what I meant by I've been doing a lot of ink stuff in black and white lately. just this kind of crap #my art is changing little by little I suppose #in this case the horror vibes work well for obbligato fanart. though I know the lines are a bit hard to read.... #enstars #ensemble stars #tatsukana #tatsuname #kazehaya tatsumi #tojou kaname #kaname tojou #tatsumi kazehaya #himeru #fanart #my art #I swear one day I'll: #1. depict the fact that tatsumi got injured here somehow #2. include jun in an obbligato fanart ☠️ I've planned to a few times but always had to cut him... sorry king better luck next time </3 #OH also tatsumi winking is a remnant of the original drawing which was gonna depict the kaname vision of the strongest kazehaya tatsumi #thing or whatever #guess now he's just straining or got something in his eye or something

[jellypawss]

I’m taking care of a newborn kitten that was abandoned by the mom and found in my friends garage injured, he won’t latch on to his bottle and I’m having a lot of struggle feeding him. I’m getting a 3ml dropper today to see if I can drip feed him kinda but I really hope this little fella makes it.

I have to wake up every 2 hours to feed this lil guy and I’m so tired but it is worth it! Send good vibes for healing and growing for this baby.

#tw injured animal #tw sick pet #kittens #cute kittens #catblr #I’m not naming him just in case :(

[pencilpavlova]

Not art but I need it known that @anonspice and I rescued an injured juvi pigeon a month ago

Their name is Mercutio Scunge and they're the best sentient lint-ball to grace this planet uvu-b

#p.s rescues in Australia euthanase non-natives on the spot #in case anyone is gonna baw about “injured animals shouldn't be rescued by novices” #anyway Cush is doing great they're heckin baby and love pats #pigeon #animal rescue #dove #rock pigeon #feral pigeon #pigeons as pets #pet pigeon

[tumblingxelian]

Wednesday Fanfic Concept Compellation:

This is a compellation of all my Wednesday fanfic ideas I likely will not have the time or energy to write but wanted a record of:

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - Rivals and Roommates to Lovers With her parents fast approaching for a string of "Family Therapy Sessions" and with the looing promise of their intervention in her nonexistent love life, Wednesday is forced to take drastic action.

"Enid, Barclay, I have need of one or both of your assistance in a little deception for the duration of my parents extended visit."

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - The Traumatized Time Traveler Enid watches as her new roommate stares her down, glassy eyes wide as she offers her hand, the words "Wednesday Friday Addams," Escaping her mouth in an almost pained whisper.

Smiling brightly she grasps it, not too firmly given Wednesday looks like she might be bowled over by a stiff breeze and she cheerily greets her.

"I'm so glad you're here Wednesday, I'm Enid asiménio oíko Sinclair."

Her gaze flickered to the adults and she could only wonder…

Why were they giving Wednesday such shocked stares?

The Nevermore Affair When Wednesday Addams was forced to attend Nevermore Academy she was confident about two things.

1: She would be escaping in short order. 2: She would in no way follow her mothers matrimonial footsteps.

Which begs the question of how she managed to find herself engaged twice over within the first twenty four hours!?

Worse still, it is to the two most vexing people at Nevermore, Enid Sinclair and Bianca Barclay.

The Worlds most unhinged road trip! If Wednesday had to choose between listening to her parents passionate declarations of love, at best, or a road trip with Tanaka and Divina to free Enid from boot camp and Bianca from her mother she would choose the lesser of two evils and hit the road.

Wenclair - Fake Courting, Politics and Assassins Oh My! Wednesday does not wish to return home just yet to be coddled and cooed over by her parents. So when Enid dreads her mothers attempts at matchmaking now that she has transformed the Seer concocts an ingenious plan to both irritate Esther Sinclair, ward off Enid's unwanted suitors and give herself some space.

Unfortunately she did not account on Outcast politics. let alone Esther Sinclair endorsing their false relationship for her own schemes. It seems Enid was right to worry there were factors she had not considered.

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - Soulmate Struggles Wednesday has always loathed the idea of a Soulmates. Emotions of warm nostalgia and love forced on her for a stranger by the whims of fate? IF she ever meets the people whose marks match hers she will ensure she doe snot become a slave to passion as her parents did!

Bianca had always feared meeting her Soulmates. Already terrified of the power she had over the minds of others she could think of nothing kinder than to reject them as harshly as possible.

Enid had always longed too meet her soulmates, hoping to find two kindred spirits who could perhaps love her without conditions or demands.

Too bad for the three of them what they got was each other.

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - Mothers When Enid slipped away from her mother and the horrifying thought of Conversion Therapy she did not expect to stumble on a conversation between Bianca and her own mother, let alone one so terrifying.

Bianca did not expect to spend Parents day trying to escape her mothers grasp. Let alone trying to do so in the Nightshades catacombs with Enid Sinclair at her side.

With any luck their mothers will kill each other or give up the search, but then, when have they ever been lucky?

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - Duo Detectives! Enid does not trust Tyler, not in the least. So when Wednesday skips away to get a ride for him she doubles back to make sure the girl won't be ambushed in the parking lot or something.

Instead she finds herself pursuing Tyler into the woods and witnesses his trust nature and the death of Rowan

Wednesday, now armed with a secondary witness and ally is determined to fin out the truth behind Rowan's death, the prophecy and most of all…

Why Principle Weems and Sheriff Galpin are coordinating to cover up Tyler's murders?

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - Nevermore Never Worry Wednesday finds her efforts to escape Nevermore consantly frustrated by everything from annoying people to her own proclivities.

It is vexing, but at least nothing more serious is going on that might lure her into staying long term; even if she is finding some tolerable people.

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - Shadow Wolf Wednesday does not notice the rainbow lights or the bright pastels of the dorm room. Let alone the fact half the window is etched in greys blacks and white or that half the room is already laid out for her arrival.

No, her gaze is locked solely on the figure awaiting her inside it.

"I'm Enid Sinclair, welcome to Nevermore, Wednesday."

The voice is gentle but firm and she keeps her distance and no one else seems to notice anything amiss, but Wednesday does.

Because in place of a head, or face, or any human features is the visage of bleeding wolf, thrashing and snarling in fury, blood dripping down its savage maw, glowing eyes gazing into her own.

Wednesday Addams has no idea what Enid Sinclair is, or why no one else can see it, but she intends to find out. If the shadowed wolf doesn't devour her first.

#Wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #Enid Sinclair #enid x wednesday #bianca barclay #Bianca x Wednesday #Bianca x Enid #Text post #Enid/Wednesday/Bianca #Yoko Tanaka #Divina (Wednesday) #Fanfic concepts #My work #I have some other ideas but more vague #Like Tyler kidnapping Wednesday on the first night but THing managing to signa for help #So he has to leave her injured in a tree & fake a car crash she is found by Enid & Bianca #Thornhill has some of her blood stolen and stored but isn't sure if the storage will work #They help Wednesday solve the case as she is on bed rest for some time

[kaeyx]

yandere chuuya coaxing you into going on a mission with him where he knows you'll get hurt just so he can play the role of your knight in shining armour and make you subconsciously feel like you're in debt to him

he uses it then to get you into bed I think but I shan't share his plans

🌱

Holy fucking SHIT yes please!!! Chuuya swooping in to save you at the last moment because it makes him look good and he knows strong emotions bind people together. But also Chuuya letting you get a little injured, nothing permanent just enough to make you dependent on him for a while. So he can carry you back to base. Better yet, getting you injured while on an overseas mission so he can tend to you the entire time you're there, while also taking on your workload. It makes you feel terrible that he's having to pull your weight on top of his, and that he's taking care of you. But Chuuya is absolutely delighted! However if you insist on doing something for him in return like a gift or a meal, he's definitely not opposed..... anything to spend more time with you.

#chuuya.bsd #🌱 anon #Chuuya letting you get sick/injured so he can tend to you and change your bandages and share a bed with you at night #just to keep you warm and in case you need anything of course. no ulterior motives

[spark-circuit]

trailblazer copes with too much considering they're the walking equivalent of a shaken up cosmic soda can

#honestly Nanook carries me too much in SU for me to be scared of him #bestie is out here killing Kafka and the Swarm before i get the chance to and also nuking enemies when i get too injured #but in terms of story dude getting told you're due to fight the most violent god has me like 'yeah??? really???' #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail trailblazer #hsr trailblazer #honkai star rail nanook #hsr nanook #spoiler warning #<- just in case since it's Luofu arc #hsr spoilers #spark talks about nothing of relevance #now that's what I call shitposting

[sannyo-appreciation-posts]

No Smoking

Sannyo appears to have been threatened into non-smoking, featuring her injured appearance and some of her Spellcard's 6 petal Kumomagusa flower patterns in the background

art by Fairyfloss.

#sannyo komakusa #touhou project #unconnected marketeers #touhou 18 #She's so cute #At least they let you keep the fan you never use Sannyo #Idk if she's injured because she's surrendering or it's just a case of the early art trend mistaking her injured art

[wonder-worker]

Margaret of Anjou’s visit to Coventry [in 1456], which was part of her dower and that of her son, Edward of Lancaster, was much more elaborate. It essentially reasserted Lancastrian power. The presence of Henry and the infant Edward was recognised in the pageantry. The ceremonial route between the Bablake gate and the commercial centre was short, skirting the area controlled by the cathedral priory, but it made up for its brevity with no fewer than fourteen pageants. Since Coventry had an established cycle of mystery plays, there were presumably enough local resources and experience to mount an impressive display; but one John Wetherby was summoned from Leicester to compose verses and stage the scenes. As at Margaret’s coronation the iconography was elaborate, though it built upon earlier developments.

Starting at Bablake gate, next to the Trinity Guild church of St. Michael, Bablake, the party was welcomed with a Tree of Jesse, set up on the gate itself, with the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah explaining the symbolism. Outside St. Michael’s church the party was greeted by Edward the Confessor and St. John the Evangelist; and proceeding to Smithford Street, they found on the conduit the four Cardinal Virtues—Righteousness (Justice?), Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. In Cross Cheaping wine flowed freely, as in London, and angels stood on the cross, censing Margaret as she passed. Beyond the cross was pitched a series of pageants, each displaying one of the Nine Worthies, who offered to serve Margaret. Finally, the queen was shown a pageant of her patron saint, Margaret, slaying the dragon [which 'turned out to be strictly an intercessor on the queen's behalf', as Helen Maurer points out].

The meanings here are complex and have been variously interpreted. An initial reading of the programme found a message of messianic kingship: the Jesse tree equating royal genealogy with that of Christ had been used at the welcome for Henry VI on his return from Paris in 1432. A more recent, feminist view is that the symbolism is essentially Marian, and to be associated with Margaret both as queen and mother of the heir rather than Henry himself. The theme is shared sovereignty, with Margaret equal to her husband and son. Ideal kingship was symbolised by the presence of Edward the Confessor, but Margaret was the person to whom the speeches were specifically addressed and she, not Henry, was seen as the saviour of the house of Lancaster. This reading tips the balance too far the other way: the tableau of Edward the Confessor and St. John was a direct reference to the legend of the Ring and the Pilgrim, one of Henry III’s favourite stories, which was illustrated in Westminster Abbey, several of his houses, and in manuscript. It symbolised royal largesse, and its message at Coventry would certainly have encompassed the reigning king. Again, the presence of allegorical figures, first used for Henry, seems to acknowledge his presence. Yet, while the message of the Coventry pageants was directed at contemporary events it emphasised Margaret’s motherhood and duties as queen; and it was expressed as a traditional spiritual journey from the Old Testament, via the incarnation represented by the cross, to the final triumph over evil, with the help of the Virgin, allegory, and the Worthies. The only true thematic innovation was the commentary by the prophets.

[...] The messages of the pageants firmly reminded the royal women of their place as mothers and mediators, honoured but subordinate. Yet, if passive, these young women were not without significance. It is clear from the pageantry of 1392 and 1426 in London and 1456 in Coventry that when a crisis needed to be resolved, the queen (or regent’s wife) was accorded extra recognition. Her duty as mediator—or the good aspect of a misdirected man—suddenly became more than a pious wish. At Coventry, Margaret of Anjou was even presented as the rock upon which the monarchy rested. [However,] a crisis had to be sensed in order to provoke such emphasis [...]."

-Nicola Coldstream, "Roles of Women in Late Medieval Civic Pageantry," "Reassessing the Roles of Women as 'Makers' of Medieval Art and Culture"

#historicwomendaily #margaret of anjou #my post #henry vi #yeah I don't necessarily agree with Laynesmith's interpretation (that it was essentially Marian with an emphasis on shared sovereignty) #which she herself says is 'admittedly very speculative' #as this book points out that interpretation tips the balance too far on the other side and has a somewhat selective reading #It's also important to remember that this interpretation was not really reflected across wider Lancastrian propaganda at the time #which isn't really talked about - let alone emphasized - as much by historians but remained focused on the King #For example: look at the pro-Lancastrian poem 'The Ship of State' which hails Henry VI as a 'noble shyp made of good tree' #and emphasizes how he was widely supported and defended by many great Lancastrian lords and the crown prince #but not Margaret who was entirely absent #also look at the book 'Knyghthode and Bataile' (presented to Henry) and Fortescue's various pro-Lancastrian texts in the 1460s #even the recording of that Yorkist trial which was iirc reported in the 1459 attainder #all of these were entirely conventional and highlighted the presence and importance of the King. Margaret was not emphasized. #so either the Lancastrians were impossibly inconsistent about what message they actually wanted to convey about the role of their own queen #or the Coventry pageants were not actually meant to emphasize Margaret in the lieu of Laynesmith's interpretation #and would not have been viewed in such a manner by contemporaries #I think we should also keep in mind that we don't really know what Henry VI's condition was like at the time of MoA's entry to Coventry #we know he had been injured in St. Albans and had only just recovered from his second illness #this is especially important to consider since we know he had also arrived at Coventry before Margaret but much more discreetly #and was not welcomed by any pageants that we know of. This is VERY unusual and can be best explained if we consider the fact that he #may have simply not been in the right state (be it physical or state of mind) for it at the time #in which case the pageants for Margaret should be viewed as more of a improvisation/cover-up/temporary measure to bolster prestige #or Henry may have deliberately taken a more discreet role to emphasize the position of his heir - especially important after the long wait #imo I think Kipling's interpretation (ie: that they addressed Margaret but really referenced the prince & heir) makes a lot more sense: #'Coventry [...] regarded Margaret's entry as a kind of triumph-by-proxy: the Queen entered the city but Coventry received its Prince' #though I think he tends to view Margaret as more of a cipher (and has a very questionable view of Henry VI) which I also don't agree with. #The pageants very much DID focus on and reference her but they most prominently emphasized her 'motherhood and duties as queen' #ie: I think Kipling and Laynesmith tip too far on opposite sides and I think this interpretation takes the most realistic middle ground

[martianbugsbunny]

It is now blorbo o'clock which is to say I just watched Captain Marvel for the Talos content and holy cats he and Nick go from enemies to hand-holding in like zero seconds flat

#it's not even in two hours #they weren't friendly for the entire movie #and it's not just like 'hey I'm injured lemme hold your hand' 'okay bro' #they like focused on nick and talos's hands for a nice lil minute there #and words were not needed #I'm ill about them #my hurt/comfort heart really loves that scene #and wishes to see more of the same unless it involves death in which case the cost is too high #talos x nick fury #nick fury x talos #espionage husbands #nick fury #talos #captain marvel #blorbo o'clock #martianbugsbunny ships